Come home to us
by QuinQuoty
Summary: Alexander, home on military leave, and Eliza share a moment as a family before he has to go back to Yorktown (Modern)
1. Chapter 1

Eliza smiled happily, sighing as she rolled over in bed, pressing her face into her husband's chest. Alexander groaned faux-irritably as he drowsily shifted his arm from its place on her pregnant belly to her lower back, gently rubbing circles into her spine with his thumb. Eliza breathed his scent in, trying to commit it to memory. He smelled like the freshly ground coffee he was always chugging, cigarette smoke (from his friends, no doubt), and her shea body lotion that he actively denied stealing in the shower. There were lingering traces of the cologne she had bought him last Christmas there too: a light, vaguely cinnamon-y smell with a slight citrus scent. Much better than the Axe body spray he used to drown himself in, a relic of his university bachelor days. He looked so peaceful on the odd occasion he actually slept, she mused. It was easy to miss how full and soft his lips were when his mouth was always either pressed into a frustrated, thin line or talking non-stop. Or how long his eyelashes were; so long that they cast shadows on his cheekbones. She frowned a little at that observation: his cheeks seemed gaunter to her than they had been when he left.

He opened his eyes to her intense scrutiny, raising an eyebrow quizzically. "What are you thinking about?" he murmured softly.

She beamed up at him, "I just missed you so much. I can't believe you're here."

His eyes crinkled with the beginnings of crow's feet, framing his dark eyes, _those eyes, how was I lucky enough to marry a man with eyes like his,_ she thought to herself. "I miss you too, Betsey" he grinned, craning his neck to brush his lips against the top of her head. He sat up in bed, eliciting a moan of protest from Eliza as he repositioned her so that she was leaning on his shoulder. "Should we get up? Maybe get some breakfast?"

"Absolutely not. It's barely eight. Besides", she smirked, snuggling into his shoulder, "you're comfy."

"We have to get up _sometime."_

"We could stay in bed," she purred. "And I'll make it worth your while."

He laughed, but it didn't quite meet his eyes. "Betsey, you know I have to be at the airport today by five", he murmured gently, stroking her hair. "I still have to pack, I have some things to grab from the store, and it's a long drive to get there."

She raised her head to look him in the eye. "You don't have to go back."

He scoffed, swinging his legs off the side of the bed, shrugging on a t-shirt. "You know I do."

"You _shouldn't_ ", she snapped. She saw his shoulders slump, and moved behind him, twining her arms around his neck, resting her chin on the top of his head. "You've done so much Alexander. No one would fault you if you applied to take an extended leave."

"Eliza, I can't", he said hopelessly. "We're so close, and I need to be part of this. I need this more than I've ever needed anything. I know you understand that."

"I understand that you're willing to martyr yourself for your abstract ideals" she spat angrily, getting off the bed and stalking away. "I understand that you're abandoning me while I'm pregnant. I understand that you've accepted that you might die and leave us alone." She defensively folded her arms over her stomach, which was just beginning to round.

He looked pained as she stared at him, daring him to say she was wrong. "Eliza…" he sighed.

"Don't. I don't want to fight the last few hours you're here."

"I'm only going to Virginia, Eliza. I Google-mapped it, it's only an hour and half's flight away."

"That doesn't _matter._ "

"I'll be back before you know I'm gone!"

"You don't know that!" she cried. "What if there's a surprise attack? What if your sources are wrong and the British are prepared for you? What if your convoy gets bombed? What if you get shot?"

She let out a choked sound that sounded like a sob and turned away from him. He crossed the room and took her into his arms. "The fighting's practically over, baby. It's going to be much different than last time. It's going to be a shorter campaign, and I won't be out fighting nearly as much as the first time."

"You promise?" she croaked, face buried in his shirt.

"Scout's honor. General Washington and Lafayette are only getting me to tie up some loose ends. I'll be back before you know it", he whispered into her hair.

"You weren't a boy scout", she teased weakly.

He chuckled softly. "Well, 'bastard's honor' has less credibility attached to it" he joked as she burrowed herself back into his chest. He tucked his hand under her chin, raising it so she looked him in the eye. "I want our child to grow up in a world where they can be anything they want to be. We said we'd make it right for them."

She let out a breathy sigh. "I know, I know. I'm just so worried for you."

"Don't be." He placed a hand on her stomach, marveling at the idea that there was a new life there that they had created. The baby had just recently started kicking at the end of Alex's leave, as if to protest its father's going back too. He was grateful that, if nothing else, he had seen Eliza's pregnancy progress over the last two months, seen her stomach start to round and their baby start to make its presence known. Pregnancy suited her beautifully. She shone with vitality- Alex had always been under the impression that the 'glowing' thing was bullshit, but apparently not so-and was already a fiercely defensive mother. "I'm not going to do anything stupid, I promise."

"Make sure you don't", Eliza said in a fake-menacing voice. "I want my baby to know how wonderful his daddy is."

Alex's eyes bulged as he stared at Eliza. "His?" he choked.

"Oh my god" Eliza gasped, horrified. "I'm so sorry, I swear I wasn't going to spoil it for you. But I had the ultrasound, and I couldn't wait-"

She was cut off as Alex leaned in for a long, languorous kiss, twining one hand in her long dark hair, the other wrapping around her back. He squeezed her gently, breaking off the kiss to press their foreheads together. "We're having a son?"

Eliza smiled radiantly, giving his nose a gentle peck. "We're having a little boy."

"A little boy" he said in wonderment, eyes dazed.

Eliza nodded happily, folding her hands over his on her stomach. "So whatever you do, hurry home to us."


	2. Chapter 2

Eliza lay slumped against the passenger side window, a combination of grief and pregnancy nausea making the cool plastic and the possibility of avoiding Alexander's searching gaze seem like an incredibly attractive option. He was driving, insisting that he didn't mind as long as she could drive herself home after, a compromise that they had come to only after he had tried to call all of their available relatives and friends to chauffer her. Eliza sighed restlessly. Either of her sisters would have been an asset in this situation. Peggy's infectious energy would have cut through the tension that had lingered between her and Alexander all day as they ran around town running errands. They had been too busy to talk to each other, their fight only tabled by Eliza inadvertently revealing their baby's gender, not resolved. Angelica would have been a strong shoulder to cry on after Alexander got on his plane. Angie had a knack for making Eliza feel better, and would have expertly chastised Alexander for fighting in this stupid war to begin with, while simultaneously assuring Eliza that he was sure to make it home safely. It felt wrong to include other people in their moment though. Especially if this was the last time… _no_. She refused to entertain that thought, but it was one that had been plaguing her for the last month, when they had learned that he was getting called back. She had been able to push it aside when she was reveling in the time they spent together; rainy days spent in tiny coffee shops, sleepy mornings when they lay entwined under the covers, events where he formally introduced her as "my wife, Elizabeth", and even the previous night, when he had distracted her by expertly exploring her body while he murmured sweet nothings and filthy promises in her ear.

Alexander was acutely aware of her distress, but knew her well enough to know that confronting her about it would get him nowhere. He had even suggested taking a cab by himself, probably imagining that avoiding a protracted goodbye would be easier for her. She liked seeing him drive though. It was a comforting throwback to their college years, where he always insisted on driving his beaten up Toyota up to her parents' place instead of taking the train. His right hand rested on her left knee, a habit from when they were reckless nineteen year olds that she couldn't help but find endearing against her better judgment, especially when he caught her left hand and kissed it, keeping his eyes on the road. She was dreading reaching the airport, wishing that time would stop and they could stay in this moment forever. She had accepted that his commitment to the revolution was a key facet of his identity when she married him, but it was difficult to share her husband with a war that, at best, would leave psychological scars that she could never hope to understand. She desperately wanted to be proud of him, but it was hard to reconcile her belief in his abilities with the knowledge that her child could very easily grow up without knowing his father.

Alexander rubbed her thigh soothingly, peeling his eyes from the road quickly. "Are you okay, Betsey?"

She did her best to smile at him. They had already had this discussion at home, and continuing it wasn't going to be helpful. "I'm fine, love. Your son is just being restless."

" _Our_ son."

"If he inherits your sleep schedule, he's all yours."

"Did the doctor give you a due date?" Alex asked quietly.

She wrapped her thumb over his finger and squeezed gently. "Um, yeah, I think he said January 20th."

"Oh, cool" he smiled. "I'm gonna try to get leave again for when he comes."

She glanced at him sharply. "Are you going to be there for five months?"

"Probably not."

"Then why would you apply to get leave in five months?"

"I just want to make sure all of my bases are covered, just in case," he said, somewhat defensively.

"But if you don't have to-"

"We're at odds about how long this could go," he explained tiredly. "I say maybe three months at most, Lafayette thinks we can get it done in a few weeks if we play our cards right. Washington is less optimistic. He sees this dragging on for another two years."

Eliza was speechless at the thought. Two years without Alex, living this fractured existence where she only got snippets of his time. And that was the best-case scenario if General Washington was correct. What seemed far more likely was that she was sending her husband off to his death and, proud idiot that he was, he was going with a song in his heart, ready to die for his values. "Do you think that that's a possibility?"

"I honestly don't know", he muttered, pulling his hand away to put it on the steering wheel.

"I thought you said you were, and I quote, 'tying up some loose ends,'" she muttered bitterly.

"It's never a for sure thing, Elizabeth" he said flatly. It was only the fact that he used her full name that let her understand that he was genuinely upset.

"Pull over." He looked like he was about to disagree, but complied nonetheless, pulling onto the shoulder of the highway. She sighed softly. "You know I'm incredibly proud of you. But this is just so hard Alex."

"I don't know what else I can say to make it better", he mumbled defiantly.

"That's the thing", she snapped. "There's nothing that you can say that _will_ make it better. It's going to suck until you come back."

"Then tell me not to go." His voice was quiet, dangerous.

She glared at him. "And make you resent me five years down the line? I don't think so. You're an adult Alexander, you can make your own choices."

"Then what do you want from me?" he barked.

"I want you to want to stay. I want you to decide that you don't want to fight anymore. I want you to choose us."

The look he gave her was heart-wrenchingly, achingly pitying. "That's not going to happen Betsey." She stared at him incredulously, tears welling in her eyes. "Goddamn it", Alexander swore irritably. "You know that's not what I meant. I just…I have to have _something_ , Eliza. Something to make me worthwhile. Something to make me come close to deserving someone like you."

"You don't need to prove yourself to me."

"I know that", he murmured, more gently. "I need to prove myself to myself." He sighed softly, reaching for her hand again. "When I was growing up, all I ever wanted was a chance to fight for what I believed in. We were dirt poor, but I knew that if I was given the chance, I could make something of myself. For so many years, that's all I held on to- the chance to come into my own, fighting the good fight. Now that I have that chance, I have to take it." He looked her in the eyes. "That doesn't change what we have. What you mean to me."

"I don't want to be left alone", she whispered.

"I can't stay love. We're going to have a son. I need to be someone he can be proud of. Do you understand?"

Eliza sighed sadly, a chagrined smile lighting her face. "I know who I married."

Alex grinned crookedly. "So do I." He paused, scanning her face before reaching into the glove box. "I made a thing for you while I was stationed out the first time, and I was going to give it to you when we got to the airport, but I guess now is the time." He pulled out a sheaf of papers, tied up with butcher's twine. As Eliza took them from him, she realized that they were letters, all handwritten in his frenetic, spiky scrawl. "When I couldn't talk to you, I decided to write", he said simply. "I know that this isn't easy, but we'll make it work. And I'll come home with a new volume of letters for you."

Eliza smiled, roughly wiping a tear off her face with the heel of her hand. "You promise?"

"I do", he murmured, kissing her palm. "I'll be back before you know I'm gone."


End file.
